


The Kimchi Revolution

by burnintoash (funnymorning)



Series: To Boldly Go [1]
Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, M/M, This is a Star Trek household
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 23:04:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14199582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funnymorning/pseuds/burnintoash
Summary: Woojin woos Jihoon with food. In space.





	The Kimchi Revolution

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a star-trek fusion space opera, but this is what we get because nothing works out in life the way we want to. Hopefully, this kick starts my brain into writing something with an actual plot, or maybe I'll just keep adding short fics to this series. Let's see.

“So?” Captain Burnham says, in her usual soft yet slightly threatening tone. “Do you want to explain to me why the Food Synthesizer 41 is making nothing but Kimchi since yesterday?”

 

“A bug, maybe?” Woojin plays innocent, although he is sweating under his exercise clothes, half from knowing he is probably gonna get into some shit, and half from his run. He literally just got back from his morning jog around the ship main platform when the comm for him came in from the captain’s quarter, and Woojin immediately knew then what this call is going to be about.

 

“I have three reports on active Klingon outposts waiting on me right here.” Captain Burnham taps the holo disks stacked on the table in front of her. “Cut the shit, Park Woojin. What did you do?”

 

“Me?” Woojin puts on an offended tone. “I mean you cannot just accuse me because a food synthesizer starts making Kimchi and I happen to be Korean. That’s racist.”

 

Captain Burnham narrows her eyes and Woojin wonders how long he can get away with this. From both experience and instinct, Woojin thinks _not very long._ The stern eyes glaring at him are yet another indicator that he might actually live after this encounter if he admits to his crimes real soon.

 

“There are 15 other Koreans on board. Do you see me accusing them?” Captain Burnham says. “No, I am accusing you because you are the only one who can and will bother to hack into a standard Fleet-issued machinery, especially one that has been hard-wired with a language so old that even the Federation maintenance engineers cannot update it.”

 

“Maybe if they start learning basic programming concepts and not just flashy frameworks, they’d know how to.” Woojin mutters under his breath.

 

“So, I’ll take that as an admission?”

 

Shit. He always forgets how good she is at hearing and observing. It is probably all the Vulcan’s training.

 

“Well,” Woojin settles on indignation. “You can’t exactly blame me, can you? Every food card choice available for earth food is all from Western countries. I miss my home food!”

 

“You are born and raised in Sans Francisco.”

 

Woojin splutters. “Still! My roots are very much Korean, and if we have a food synthesizer dedicated for that blend-ass warm piss soup that Orions like so much, why can’t we have Kimchi too?!”

 

Burnham sighs, massaging her forehead, looking like she would not mind throwing Woojin out of the air lock, and Woojin takes a step back just in case she tries. “Orions is a civilization, same with _humans_ and each civilization gets a dedicated number of food synthesizers, you know that. Or did you skip your Federation orientation?”

 

“Michael, please, since when do you care abut Federation rules too much?” Woojin barely scoffs.

 

“Since I became captain, which by the way is a title you will address me with while we are in official capacity!”

 

“Sorry, captain.” Woojin mumbles.

 

“So, what do you have to say for yourself then?”

 

Woojin just shrugs. “I just think it is unfair that we are only getting white people food as our choices, you know. I mean, I appreciate the fries and garlic bread, god, I love that garlic bread, but I want variety, I mean, people want variety. So, I decided to do it myself, a Kimchi revolution. A kim-volution, if you will.”

 

“No, I will not.” Burnham glares at him. “I understand that we do not have much variety with our food synthesizers but you cannot go around sneaking to upgrade them without an official permission, Woojin! You are basically screwing around with the entire ship’s food resource. If something goes wrong, there is a ship-wide impact.”

 

“It’s just one synthesizer.” Woojin mutters. “Plus, nothing bad happens. My code is pristine.”

 

“The main point is...” Burnham says. “My own crew member sneaked into the main control room to modify the code of a common machinery and I wasn’t aware or informed. I don’t like that. I don’t like having one too many blind-spot in my own ship.”

 

“Informed?” Woojin furrows his brows. “You mean, someone knew I was .. allegedly sneaking in to the main control room and did not tell you?”

 

Whoever that is must have had the nerves of steel.

 

“I am gonna find that out after our little chat.” Burnham says and Woojin kind of feels sorry for that poor sucker. “And for you, here is what is gonna be.”

 

Woojin stiffens.

 

“Your next shore leave is revoked.”

 

“Captain!”

 

“Ah.. ah.” Burnham cuts him off. “You know I can do a lot worse for someone messing around with the ship’s main protocols.”

 

“It is fucking Kimchi!”

 

“And..” Burnham talks over him. “You are gonna write a thorough report on how you modify that synthesizer and send it back to the Federation HQ so their engineers can sample your code and make something that is not Italian or McDonalds.”

 

“Oh…thank god.” Woojin breathes out.

 

“And since you care so much about our ship’s food variety, you will take request from the crew to amend Food Synthesizer 41. I am making it the custom synthesizer.”

 

“Nooo…” Woojin groans. “I am still buried under those terabytes of data from our last exploration on Takar II. I don’t have time to be going around … playing chef.”

 

“Should have thought of that before you played chef.” Burnham grins and urgh, she is so evil. No wonder she made captain by 26.

 

“You know I am just gonna stay up for like 50 hours straight to make that synthesizer self-customizing, right?”

 

“That’s what I am hoping.” Burnham says and Woojin just rolls his eyes. Figures.

 

“You are dismissed.” Burnham waves a hand at him.

 

“So, captain talk hour over?”

 

“Yeah,” Burnham shrugs and snaps her finger. “Recording Log, stop.”

 

“You were recording???”

 

“Yes, your insolence is all on file.”

 

“I hate you, you know that?” Woojin grits his teeth, and Burnham just grins back.

 

“Put that hate into our sparring session later.”

 

“I am gonna beat your ass.”

 

“You are welcome to try.” Burnham scoffs. “Go away. I need to talk to this security ensign on shift who failed to notify me that you were being a sneaky little shit yesterday in the control room.”

 

“Was it… Jinyoung?” Woojin takes a guess.

 

“Please. Do you think Jinyoung would pass up any opportunity to get you chewed out by me?” Touché. “It’s the new guy.”

 

The new guy. That means _the new guy_?

 

“He’s been waiting outside for the past three minutes.” Burnham points at the monitor scanning the pathway in front of the captain’s quarter. “Can you just go?”

 

“Alright. See you later in the gym.” Woojin nods. “And thanks for nothing!”

 

Burnham just waves him off so Woojin takes off, pressing the open button of the captain’s quarter with the heel of his palm. The door slides open with a swishing sound and Woojin comes face to face with a pair of wide and unfairly pretty eyes.

 

Woojin was right. It is _the new guy_.

 

“Hi,” the new guy, Park Jihoon (Woojin knew it because of the tag that the new ensigns are supposed to wear, not because he hacked into the official call log for the new recruits or something), says, voice softer than Woojin has imagined. “Is the captain free now?”

 

“Yeah, go in.” Woojin steps aside, only for Jihoon to move in the same direction as him, and ends up doing some sort of awkward shuffle dance in front of the closing door. Never let it be said that Woojin is good at his game.

 

“Sorry,” Jihoon says, although Woojin is not sure what he is apologizing for, before stepping away so Woojin and his entire body of awkward bones can move on without blocking Jihoon, who is already looking pale and nervous enough without Woojin getting in his way.

 

“Hey, erhm,” Woojin says, scratching at his sweaty head. Shit, he really should not be sweating and dirty and probably smelling like a swamp-dwelling Gorn when he finally gets a chance to talk to the guy he has been .. well, _noticing_. “Don’t worry too much, yeah? Captain Burnham is mostly barks and little bites.”

 

Jihoon raises an eyebrow, traces of anxiousness not gone but lessening. “Didn’t she kill Klingons with her bare hands during combats?”

 

“Only one, and don’t tell her you know that. She doesn’t like rumors.”

 

“Noted.” Jihoon nods and smiles. “Thank you.”

 

And before Woojin can say anything else that could have sounded more encouraging and less … whatever it is he has just done, Jihoon has opened up the door to the captain’s quarters and stepped inside.

 

Woojin just groans, the unbearable heat from his own body and the stickiness of his skin getting to him, so he jogs towards his own quarter, ready to jump into a shower.

 

He should be heading towards the Engineering section afterwards because he needs to tune one of the biochemical tricorders to pick up the low energy emitting from the organic form they found on Takar II before he can start his next phase of analysis breakdown, but he decides to take the long (and completely unrelated path) of the second deck where the captain’s quarter is. He has checked with Jisung earlier to note that the captain is still not on the bridge despite Woojin having left her with Jihoon for a good half hour now.

 

Woojin just hopes, in the context of pure bro-ship supportiveness, that Burnham goes a little easy on Jihoon, especially when the guy is quite green around the ears.

 

As luck (and a very deliberately slowly walking Woojin) would have it, he runs into Jihoon in the corridor right before the captain’s quarter, looking physical fine, but probably mentally scarred.

 

“Hey,” Woojin catches up to him and Jihoon raises an eyebrow at him. “How did it go?”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Fine?” Woojin repeats. “Dude, I’ve know Burnham for years and ' _fine'_  and anyone walking out after facing Burnham are so far apart they might as well be in different galaxies.”

 

Jihoon laughs, nodding his head a little bit. “Well, yeah, it wasn’t exactly _fine_ , but you know, could be worse.”

 

“So, did you, erm,” Woojin stutters. “Did you really see … someone .. sneaking into the control room and not report it?”

 

“I thought _someone,_ ” Jihoon says. “…must have a reason.”

 

“That’s pretty stupid, you know.” Woojin blurts out. “I mean, you did see a dude messing around in the control room and you didn’t report it?”

 

“Hey asshole,” Jihoon says and Woojin blinks at the sudden insult. “Sorry for believing in you and thinking you are not the type of guy to sabotage the whole ship?”

 

“I…” Woojin starts. Jihoon believes in him? _What_ “I mean, who knows? I could be a clone for all you know.”

 

“Are you a clone?” Jihoon asks pointedly.

 

“No, but do you think a clone would admit that it is a clone?”

 

“This conversation is going nowhere.” Jihoon rolls his eyes and turns to leave. Woojin suddenly panics, not sure where he has started to fuck up.

 

“Hey, Jihoon, dude,” Woojin grasps at the sleeve of Jihoon’s uniform in desperation. “Sorry. I mean, thank you? For not exposing my stupid ass to captain. I mean, I did get caught anyway, but thanks? For the solidity?”

 

“You are welcome.” Jihoon says even though he sounds like he is still a little miffed. At least he is not turning away from Woojin so that is a win.

 

“So, what’s the deal now? Are you on suspension or something?”

 

“No, I got my shore leaves revoked, and some extra trainings.”

 

“Wait, really?” Woojin blinks. He would have thought Burnham would have cracked down heavier on such an obvious security loophole. “The captain’s getting soft, huh?”

 

“It is possible that she believes I didn’t see anything because I was a little dumb with all the monitoring screens. Hence, the extra trainings.”

 

“You lied to the captain?” Woojin raises his eyebrows, impressed, because that is a damn good skill. It is not easy to lie to a sharp human who has had years of Vulcan training. Burnham is practically a walking lie detector. At least, to Woojin, anyway.

 

“Speak a little louder. I don’t think everyone around us heard you.” Jihoon hisses and Woojin shrinks his shoulder.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“I just … I don’t want to get a suspension before my probation is up, alright? I can’t get that kind of record on my report.”

 

“I get it, dude.” Woojin nods. “Just .. she is not an easy person to lie to.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Jihoon shrugs almost nonchalantly and Woojin is starting to get the feeling that Park Jihoon is scarier than he lets on. “I did risk my job and my neck for your dumb act, but at least the Kimchi was worth it.”

 

“You like it?” Woojin brightens up.

 

“I’d eat it with protein shake for breakfast if that doesn’t sound gross.” Jihoon says. “I’ve been missing home food for weeks.”

 

“I know.” Woojin blurts out before his brain can send stop signals to his damn mouth. Fuck. “I made it for you.”

 

Jihoon stops in his track. “What?”

 

“I …” Woojin stutters, lost. “I was just.. fuck it. I overheard you talking to Jisung hyung that you’ve been homesick so bad because this is the first time for you to come out into space. So, yeah, I updated it for you since you said you wanted some home food. I mean, it’s tough, you know and I understand that, so I was just … erh .. helping?”

 

“You were wooing me…” Jihoon cuts him off. “With Kimchi.”

 

Technically? No. Because Woojin has had no plan to let Jihoon know the culprit behind his incredible Kim-volution. He just wants to do something for the guy who looks down and homesick every time Woojin spotted him around the ship (and somehow still managing to look incredibly attractive despite the blue and heavy outlook on his face).

 

“It was a friendly gesture.” Woojin says unsurely. “A helping hand, you know. From a senior officer to a new ensign.”

 

“I am only an ensign because I went for my masters first.” Jihoon rolls his eyes. “I am on the Command fast track.”

 

He really cannot even let Woojin have this one thing, can he?

 

“Plus,” Jihoon smiles, more of a smirk actually, and Woojin’s brain is not really wired to handle this much pretty. “I’ve been wooed in weirder ways.”

 

“But was it effective?” Woojin blurts out.

 

“I don’t know,” Jihoon shrugs, stepping into the opening elevator. The Medical CPO stepping out the elevator gives them a curious look, but Woojin is too focused on what Jihoon has to say next. “But if you somehow manage to make, let’s say, braised pork ribs or crispy chicken, I might tell you how effective it is over dinner. Or supper even.”

 

And he has the audacity to fucking wink, like Woojin is not already out of his mind right here. “See you, Park Woojin.”

 

You know what? Those green glowing organic blobs from Takar II can wait. Woojin has a food synthesizer to update until it makes the most perfect braised pork ribs possible across all known galaxies.

 

*

 

Their next shore leave is on Manzar, a Federation planet known for its space high and lavish casinos, but Woojin (a) has his shore leaves revoked and (b) does not have the kind of credit chips he can spend around in a casino. Plus, Jihoon is the only other loser in this entire ship who has his shore leaves revoked so they spent the entire two days snuggling inside Woojin's quarter and watching the eons-old movies back from 21st century Earth and eating all the Earth food that Woojin's very popular and highly-in-demand Food Sythesizer 41 (yet Burnham still refuses to let him name it _THE_   _Park Woojin Synthesizer_ ) is able to produce, so really, Woojin is the one winning anyway.


End file.
